


Resplendent (in Red and Gold)

by drelfina



Category: Naruto
Genre: Founders Era, Hints of Uchiha Tajima/Senju Butsuma, M/M, Samurai practices, Shudou, hints of Uchiha Tajima, vaguely cultural and historical accepted pedastry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21847525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drelfina/pseuds/drelfina
Summary: There was something about him,  Butsuma thought, the way his hair fell about his face, long and silky, reminded him of a boy just that age, so long ago, as he lounged back against the red silk sheets, everything cast in gold from the gold tinted screens.Butsuma considers the boy in front of him, and decides to give him a gift.
Relationships: Senju Butsuma/Uchiha Izuna
Comments: 279
Kudos: 45





	Resplendent (in Red and Gold)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Perelka_L](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perelka_L/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Red and Gold](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21834313) by [drelfina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drelfina/pseuds/drelfina). 



> So Perelka was musing about Izuna's sword on discord. It's from Tobirama they said, cause it's the same kind of sword... 
> 
> or was it from Butsuma? 
> 
> hmmmm. 
> 
> :D

There was something about him, Butsuma thought, the way his hair fell about his face, long and silky, reminded him of a boy just that age, so long ago, as he lounged back against the red silk sheets, everything cast in gold from the gold tinted screens. 

Right now the boy's face was just that hint of coming out of childhood, cheekbones starting to cast sharp shadows under the kiss of his hair. 

Unlike that boy, from long long ago, however, his features were a little less hawkish - a tiny bit more delicate. But otherwise the same fine-boned structure in the arch of his eyes, the sweep of his jaw. 

Unlike that boy, _this_ one had been eager, hardly shy at all, climbing readily into Butsuma's lap with barely any encouragement, those thin layers of kimono parting and falling from his lean shoulders with satisfying eagerness. 

"I should," Butsuma said, pressing his thumb against the rise of that cheekbone, brushing hair away from the almost cat-curve of his eye, "Reward such eagerness."

"You should," the boy agreed, all slit-eyed laziness, and there were some boys in this line of work, Butsuma knew, who fell into it because it paid a lot more than hard labour. He had aristocratic lines in his face, and his fine-boned hands bore softened callouses that spoke of his past training. 

Some boys, Butsuma thought, had once trained to be swordsmen, but their families might well have fallen from favour - luck might have felled their lords. 

Butsuma should know. He'd killed one such lord last week, and rendered all his vassals master-less, leaderless, ronin. Any sons of such vassals would have hard times ahead; but this boy's life... well. Clearly it was silk-lined, and he was eager enough in it.

Butsuma chuckled, and tugged the boy up; he moved with it, all silky grace, and Butsuma prided himself with a good enough eye to see that a lot of such grace was a swordsman's grace. 

He was just past the age that he would have taken a nenja, Butsuma knew; it was only a pity that his lord, very likely had passed and he could not continue. 

Still. 

Butsuma smoothed his palm up the boy's arm, wrist to elbow, then up, firm to his bicep, smiling at the way the boy shivered, melted into his lap. 

"I think, I will gift you something, in addition to your payment," Butsuma mused. 

"Will you really, Kei-sama?" the boy said, purring over Butsuma's pseudonym, and Butsuma hummed. "This one does not deserve it." 

But he was looking around him with cat-like curiosity, adorable and endearing in that adolescent quality that so many wakashuu of that age were, and Butsuma drew him back in for a kiss. 

hard enough to redden his lips. 

Boys like these, boys this age, had no need for rouge and lip colour - the only necessary colour should come from the heightened arousal of teenage passions, whether it be anger or pleasure. And indeed, this boy blushed prettily, red lips parted as Butsuma broke the kiss, his cheekbones dusted pink against dark, dark eyes. 

Dark as onyx.

Dark like that boy from long, so long ago. 

(Ah, his own son is soon approaching that age. He didn't know what he would do, if someone were to approach him in order to ask to mentor him. But Shinobi weren't samurai, not the same way, and he could say no if he wanted. )

(Did he want to?) 

(he wouldn't be able to blame any man for that - not when he knew just how pretty wakashuu were. Just like this boy.)

The boy reached for Butsuma's arms, delicately walking his fingers - calloused, soft from balms and clearly months of no longer being a swordsman - up to drape them over Butsuma's shoulders, coquettish and coy, and Butsuma firmed his resolution. 

"Yes, yes I will," he said, and, one arm around the boy's waist, reached over to his things, drawing out a sword. 

"You would," he said, after a moment's thought, "Look very good in maroon." 

Not red. (Yes, he would, in brilliant ruby red, red and gold, like that boy from so long ago, but... that boy was gone now. and Butsuma was not thinking of that boy anymore. There was no point thinking about him.) 

The boy's eyes lit up at the sword. "For me?" he breathed. "Kei-sama, thank you!" 

Only a swordsman's son, or a little samurai to be, would appreciate swords like this, Butsuma thought with an indulgent smile. 

"I should thank you for this priceless gift," the boy murmured, and leaned right in, to press a kiss against Butsuma's throat. "Thank you, Kei-sama~" 

He didn't think much about it - boys like these, lost to the whims of fate,well, he could only do so much for them, as shinobi, after all. 

But one year later, Tajima's youngest son made his first appearance on the battlefield. 

And he wore a maroon haori, gold uchiwa on his breast, and Butsuma's gift on his waist.

"Oh," Butsuma breathed. 

He was _that boy's son_.

**Author's Note:**

> Izuna: *shit-eating grin* Kei-sama! Thanks for the sword! 
> 
> Butsuma: that lying MINX.


End file.
